Another Kind of Horcrux
by Dark Limerence
Summary: There is more than one way to make a horcrux. And the Dark Lord knows them all. Here. have a rare glimpse into the Dark Lord Voldemort's soul... Warnings for slight feels and implications for a potential Hagrid/Riddle ship. Please Read and Review!


_Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. These characters are products of JKR's genius, I merely took a few liberties to have a little fun. And exercise my writing ability..._

**A/N: My focus is on the Dark Lord's character, and how it evolved the way it did. This is my attempt to show that he was once a man, a boy, with ordinary dreams, and a touch of innocence or a soul ... as it were. Let me know what you think? Also, a one shot with a potential ship between him and Hagrid, let me know if you think it has any oompf to keep going with it. Its an odd ship, I know, but, it just came to me. Now, onto the story ...**

Riddle went into the music hall to play the little ballad he had, had in his head all couldn't focus on anything unless he was working on this song. Composing music was his guilty pleasure, his secret passion. He loved it almost as much as he loved magic. To him, music was a sort of magic of its own. It had the power to affect the mood of a person, evoke thoughts and feelings just with a few bars.

That was power.

Riddle as a man of power himself had to respect power when he saw it.

Sitting down at the bench, he cracked his knuckles after he set down the piece of music on the stand in front of him. He closed his dark eyes and placed his hands on the ivory and ebony keys and began to play. It was a deep sound, soft at first but growing in volume as he went along. Mellow, and sad, It was a ballad of loneliness and despair but it managed to hold a degree of charm, and grace, as the smooth notes held on tightly to each emotion played and stretched pulled and drawn out ... played with, tossed about, then neglected into a hanging pause of silence, like the boy, the boy who was neglected at that orphanage.

His hands danced with ease across the keys and he swayed and let himself get lost in the song, in his own creation. It was almost like a narcissistic game of seduction, what the gods must do to mortals, the way he interacted with his composition, was similar the way a creation would admire the creator and vice versa, it was a delicate never ending dance. And Riddle played it well.

In music, he mourned his soul, and at the same time he prided himself that no one would ever, ever see it to call him weak. Cause with magic, he could end them, but with music, he could only make them cry. Until he found a way to wed the two, make music even more powerful than it was. Mix his innate magic with the magic that is music and make something altogether new. That would be his dream, to create the most powerful form of magic of all time, and therefore be the most powerful sorcerer of all time!

As he thought these things, his playing deviated to a sort of devious jovial tune, sinister and dark, but very upbeat, like a happy devil, all the darkness of power combined with all the light of passion and joy. He wanted to stop and write this down but he didn't want to lose the flow, of it. He suddenly smiled. Smiled at his luck, he now had another song to drive him mad. It was the best sort of madness, inspiration was.

His notes grew deeper and more baritone on the scale, more base clef, and then glissando up to a more treble timbre. And he was about to give the piece a big finish, when he heard someone at the door, and he stopped, didn't turn around but sat still a moment, and took out his wand and got up like he was about to leave, when he heard a familiar voice: "Don' stop there, it was just gettin' good!"

A muscle jumped in Riddle's jaw but he had his back facing him, he put his wand back in his robes, put on a calm face, and turned around. "Hagrid, you should know better than to sneak up on someone like that." he said harshly. Hagrid frowned and almost winced, "Well, I didn't mean anything by it, honest, I just was walkin b-by and heard the music and wondered who was playing and saw it was you, I was a little -"

" A little what, Hagrid? Go on say it, if you value your life, you'll say it" he hissed the words out, with a charming face, sweet as honey covered wasps.

Hagrid gulped ...

"That's right, Hagrid, if you know what's good for you, you'll tell no one what you saw or heard here today. But just to take a precaution ..." Riddle raised his wand to Hagrid and said, "Obliviate!" and watched as Hagrid's face fell with confusion and forgetfulness. Then he raised a meaty hand to scratch his wild head. "Ehh.."

"Hello, Hagrid, you must have gotten lost, did you forget that the staircases change again? Come with me, what's your next class?"

"D-Divination, I think" he stammered out.

"Right, come with me straight this way."

And they walked side by side up to the Divination tower. But that rare glimpse of Riddle's soul, was never spoken of again...


End file.
